Coming to Terms
by Jerin Galthirbane
Summary: (A/N) Chap 2 up! Please R/R!!) Early 5th-year, things only seem to be going well for Harry. He now has the girl he wanted for 2 years, but Harry is questioning a lot of things lately.
1. Strange Feelings

(Author's Note – I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does, and that's that.)

**Chapter One**

Strange Feelings

Harry sat quietly on his four-poster, looking out the window at the few stars that were in the sky.  The other 3 boys that occupied the same room as him were all sleeping soundly.  This might normally be expected of Harry as well, considering that it was nearly three in the morning, but something had him up thinking.

Things had changed since last year an awful lot.  After Cedric's death, Cho had turned to Harry for support.  Harry was of course upset about Cedric's death, having witnessed it himself; but he found himself very content that he finally had the chance to be with the girl that he liked.  They had been dating for probably 7 months now.  Hufflepuffs had been treating Harry a little bit better, for which he could not complain.

So, why was he sitting here thinking about it with an odd feeling in his stomach?  It was something he couldn't understand.  The problem was, he didn't know who to ask about it, or how to even figure out exactly WHAT he was feeling.

Harry noticed that one of the sounds of sleepy breathing had stopped.  Messy red hair poked out of one of the other beds.

"Harry?" Ron said sleepily, "What are you doing awake?  We have a quidditch game tomorrow!  Or…today in this case.  You should be getting sleep."

Harry finally yawned, realizing that he was indeed tired.  They'd had a hard practice last night, and he probably should be sleeping.  Ron had always been a quidditch nut, but this year, he'd been made Keeper of the Gryffindor team in Oliver Wood's place.  Harry had never seen Ron more elated in his entire life.

"All right Ron.  I'm going to bed then.  Goodnight."  Harry lay back in bed, and closed the hangings of his bed to shut out the world.  Why, when everything seemed to be going right, did he feel like he was hanging on to a roller coaster that was going wildly out of control?

*                      *                      *                      *

"Harry!  Harry, wake up!  Breakfast is nearly over!"  Ron hollered from the other side of the bed hangings.  Harry awoke with a start.  Was it that late already?  "Harry!!"

"I'm up Ron!  Give me two minutes."  Harry grumbled, pulling back the curtains.  Bright, unpleasant light streamed in.  A throb dwelled in the back of his head.  It looked to be a beautiful day outside, perfect for quidditch.  It was a shame that Harry wasn't quite in the mood.

Pushing his feet over the side, Harry slid out of bed and walked around.  Ron, Dean, and Seamus had all dressed and left by now.  Harry reached for his quidditch robes and shrugged them on.  He had a nasty feeling that he was developing a head cold.  A visit to Madame Pomfrey and an inquiry for a Pepper-up Potion seemed to be on the ticket for today.  Harry wasn't sure if he'd have the time to go before the game.

Harry found the common room deserted as well.  He must have really overslept.  He quickened his pace down the staircase to the Great Hall.  A few 1st years rushed by him, barely stopping to apologize when they nearly slammed right into another going in the opposite direction.

The Great Hall was nearly devoid of people as well.  Harry quickly grabbed a few sausages and a piece of toast.  Half running, he bolted them quickly as he left.  He was truly surprised that Hermione hadn't stayed to see where he was; usually she was the one who made sure he was where he needed to be on time.

The path outdoors to the Quidditch pitch was well trodden up; Harry realized the entire school had already left for the game.  He quickened his pace once more.  How had he let this happen?  The last time he was late to a game was nearly 2 years ago.  

Bursting through the doors, he found much to his dismay that both teams were already up.  Harry spotted Ron at the goalposts, but Ron was too involved in the game to notice that Harry had just come barging in.  The score was tied at 30 points for Gryffindor as well as for Ravenclaw.  Ravenclaw had recruited some new players in the past year, and were once again a team that was fairly formidable.  Harry rushed into the locker room and found his Firebolt propped against one wall.  There was a loud cheer from the stands outside, but Harry couldn't make out above the din who had scored what.

Jumping astride his racing broom, he streaked out the doors and up to where Madame Hooch was hovering, midfield and about 25 feet in the air.  The crowd was still explosive and Harry had to shout so that Hooch could hear him.

"Sorry I'm late, Madame Hooch.  I'll be joining the game now."  

Harry had to strain to hear what she said next.  Hooch looked highly displeased.

"No you won't Potter, for the game is over.  The Ravenclaw Seeker's just caught the Snitch, beating Gryffindor for the first time all year.  Next time, maybe you shouldn't be 10 minutes late to a game!"

Harry felt as though a lead anchor had been dropped into his stomach.  For the first time since his third year, his team had lost on account of him.  Hooch blew her whistle again and arced up to where the Ravenclaw team was madly flying rings around their own seeker, breaking them up.

Looking towards the other end of the field, he found that his own team had already deserted the field.  With an even bigger sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry eased his broom down to the doors leading to the locker room.

No sooner the door opened and Harry entered than Ron descended upon him.

"Where he _hell_ where you!?  At least twice I went up to the dormitories to wake you up, and at least twice you said that you'd be right out of bed!  Harry, the Ravenclaw seeker might be better than he used to be, but he's still no match for you!  If you'd have been here, we'd have HAD this game!"  Ron spouted, in one extremely fast paced and agitated jumble.

Harry sighed and looked around the team.  Everyone was looking very nearly upset as Ron.

"I'm sorry.  I'm not sure why I was so tired, or so late.  I only remember you coming upstairs once."  The pounding in Harry's head only got worse, feeling as embarrassed as he did right now.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but only sighed and waved his hand at him.  Harry decided that it was probably best to make a quick exit, so he turned around, walked back out of the locker room, and soared into the sky upon his broom.

Looking back, he noticed the Ravenclaws were still celebrating, while nearly all the Gryffindors had left.  No doubt that Harry had only gotten the half of what was coming with Ron angry with him.  The rest of Gryffindor would probably give him the cold shoulder for at least a week or two.

It never seemed to fail that no matter how many games he'd helped the team win, or how good of a Quidditch player he actually was, whenever something didn't work out correctly, people looked past his achievements and singled out the few mistakes.  Harry sighed and gained some more altitude.  

Behind the castle he could see the crystal blue waters of the lake, and the trees just beyond the lake.  Harry wanted to be alone for a little while, and so began to move in that direction.  As of late, he'd taken to going out there on his own to just relax and clear his mind.  There was a tree-fort of sorts out there that had been left by someone, and he found it the best place to do so.

The air was very clear and smooth, and already Harry found himself becoming less tense.  Flying was one thing he could always turn to.  It was always something that made him feel free, not attached to his worldly problems and concerns.  McGonagall had told them that some time this year they'd be learning to fly without brooms, but Harry didn't think that would be the same.  Nonetheless, he looked forward to it.

He was now over the lake, and with no wind in the air whatsoever, the surface was as flat and as clear as glass.  Being directly above it, he could see his reflection speeding across the surface.  The blue of the sky reflected down upon it, but under that he could peer into the murky depths.  He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he saw the vague outline of a few merpeople.  Harry wasn't sure he wanted to see them again, but smiled inwardly anyway.  Memories were memories.

The far side of the lake was rushing up on him now, so he reduced his speed and hugged the shoreline from directly above, right at tree-level.  He spied the tree, which had one long branch that poked out at an odd angle, and flew directly into it, alighting upon a platform with a wooden railing built around it.  There was a white owl perched upon the railing.  At his approach, it hooted softly and held out a leg.

"Hedwig!  It's always surprising that you always know where to find me."  Harry said pleasantly.  He knew he hadn't been spending very much time with Hedwig, but she seemed to understand that there were things going on in Harry's life that were a bit more important.  Harry was thankful for that. 

Gently petting her chin, Harry untied the scroll that was attached to her leg.  Hedwig hooted happily again.

"Wait here.  I'll be right back." Harry said softly, and walked into the enclosed area of the small building in the tree.  Inside were a cot, a table with two chairs, and a few cupboards.  Harry had made a few additions to this place since he had found it.  He came here so often lately, that he couldn't help but add a few creature comforts.

Opening a cupboard, he removed a bit of meat left from the extra dinner he had brought here the night before.  Bringing it outside, he gave it to Hedwig, who carefully took it from him, then snapped it up eagerly.

"You must be awfully hungry.  You may go back to the owlry now.  I'll send a reply to whoever this is later, after you've had a chance to rest.  Go on now."  Hedwig looked at him gratefully, spread her wings, and soared into the sky.

Harry went back inside, and lit two candles.  Settling in a chair, he unwrapped the scroll and read the contents.

Harry –

It has been a while since you've last written me a letter.  Call me being paranoid if you wish, but I like to hear about you once in a while.  All this business that occurred last spring has gotten me very worried about you, and if you wouldn't mind too much, please reply soon.  It is very important to me that you are all right.  Thanks very much.

                        -Sirius

Harry sighed inwardly again after reading the letter from his Godfather.  He had been neglecting Sirius, which indeed was unusual of him, as Sirius and Harry had always been close, at least in correspondence.  Harry fetched a quill and some parchment, but when he sat back down to the table, the letter remained blank.

Should he tell Sirius about what was going on lately?  About the very strange feelings he'd been having?  Ron and Hermione both had been commenting that he hadn't seemed himself lately.  Harry had to admit that he'd been distracted a lot as of late.  With all the things going on the world that were dangerous, and how the teachers at Hogwarts were trying to prepare the students for the rough times ahead, Harry could only introvert himself to how he was feeling.

Sirius was probably the best person to ask about stuff like this, if only Harry could put into words what the 'stuff' was.  A number of times, he picked up his quill to start writing, only to stop before the ink ever even reached the page.

A gentle thump and footsteps came from outside, but Harry was too lost in his own thoughts to even notice.  Hands feel upon his shoulders, and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin with a yell.

"Hey, hey, hey!  Calm down it's only me.  Why are you so tense?" a soft voice asked behind him.

"Cho!"  Harry said as he came face to face with probably the worst person to ask about how he felt, regardless of how close they'd become in the past months.


	2. Sadness

Chapter Two  
Sadness  
  
"Hi, Harry. Nice to see you too," Cho said with a smile, giving him a kiss on the neck and putting her arms around his shoulders. "What's got you so jumpy lately?"  
"Uh, er - - -," Harry managed. Words seemed to be quite hard to string together at the moment.  
A thought occurred to him. "How did you find me here? I haven't told anyone about this place. I was even surprised to find Hedwig here."  
"Ah, well, see that's the thing. I heard about the game, and went looking for you. I happened to see Hedwig leaving, so I rushed to get my broom, and came here straight away. Speaking of the game - - -"  
"I don't want to talk about it. I'm sure that everyone is quite angry with me for missing the game. I'm not even sure how I managed to oversleep," Harry said at once, and very quickly, trying to drop the subject, or at the very least satisfy Cho's curiosity about it.  
Much to Harry's relief, Cho accepted this and prodded no further on the matter. Instead she looked to the blank parchment on the table, and the quill in his hand.  
"Writing to someone?"  
"Yes. A friend sent me a letter, and I've been rather negligent in writing him back. So I was going to do what I should have a few weeks ago, and write him a reply," Harry said, picking up his ink jar, and rolling up the parchment. "It can wait until later though."  
Harry got up to return the materials to their proper places, but before he was two steps away, Cho had put her hand back on his shoulder and turned him around. Her face wore an expression of concern.  
"Harry, you haven't been yourself at all these past few weeks. Please tell me what's bothering you. When you're not happy, I'm not happy," Cho pleaded. "Please don't tell me you're angry with me for coming here. If you'd prefer I don't come without your permission, I won't. Just tell me what it is."  
Harry's insides churned up for the second time that day. She was so kind, and so caring. He was extraordinarily lucky to have someone like her.  
"No, Cho. It has nothing to do with you coming here. I don't mind at all if you are here. I've just got a lot on my mind lately," Harry spoke falteringly. "McGonagall has been assigning extra homework, and Flitwick wants us to work on all of these defensive charms; it's just a lot to think about, as well as quidditch. Plus you know how personal this whole conflict with Voldemort is for me."  
Cho, unsurprisingly, flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Everyone did, and Harry had gotten used to it whenever he mentioned his name.  
"It's - - -," Harry sighed, "It's a lot of stress."  
Cho nodded, and silently hugged him. Harry wanted to just crawl into the corner and vanish. Cho had no idea that's not what was really bothering him. Harry had just lied to her, and every single word that he spoke felt like a little knife piercing him. He cared about Cho so much, how could he tell her something that might hurt her?  
They stood there for a very long time, just embracing. Harry felt like a marathon runner, trying to keep the mental stamina of staying right there and not having a nervous breakdown. Cho turned slightly, kissed his chin, and withdrew from him.  
"Harry, I'm sorry, but I can't stay. I just wanted to make sure that you felt all right, and that you weren't sick. My Muggle Studies professor is expecting me and a few others to make some kind of an announcement. I'll see you later on this evening, ok?" As Cho smiled at him, Harry could tell she was trying to reassure him. He only wished that it had the effect that she intended. Harry forced himself to smile back before she turned around and left. He stepped to the doorway, and it was a while after she was out of sight that he actually returned to the inside of his hideaway. And it was a long time after that before he was able to stop shaking with silent tears.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry quietly crept up the stairs towards the top of Gryffindor tower. So far he had met only a few of his fellow classmates, and received nothing more than a few disapproving glances. Most everyone was at dinner, but Harry felt like he wouldn't be able to eat more than a grain of rice right now.  
"Tiddlywinks," Harry muttered to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and it swung silently open. Pushing himself inside, Harry found much to his surprise both Ron and Hermione sitting beside the fire in two of the very large chairs contained within the Gryffindor common room. Neither had seen nor heard him enter for they were far too involved in their conversation to notice. Harry lingered quietly behind them.  
"You don't suppose that this has something to do with You-Know-Who, do you? I mean, he's been acting a little out of it - - -," Ron said, almost fearfully.  
"Don't be silly, Ron. If it had anything to do with him, or Harry felt as though it did, he would have done at least one of two things. He would have come to us, or gone straight to Dumbledore! I should hope that the things that happened last year woke him up to the fact that when there are problems, he needs to go to the person or people that might have answers." Hermione countered, very quickly.  
"You're probably right. I mean, we're his best friends," Ron replied, without complete confidence in his voice.  
"What worries me nearly the most is that he hasn't been writing to Snuffles."  
Harry nearly started to ask how she knew this, but remembered suddenly they didn't know he was there.  
Hermione continued. "Ron, he went so far as to write ME a letter, because Harry hasn't. He's worried sick about Harry. I've of course written Snuffles back, explaining what we at least know. Problem is, Snuffles has no more answers than you or I."  
"But why doesn't he even talk to us anymore? I realize that he has Cho now and that's of course important to him, but he doesn't spend THAT much time with Cho. More often than not, he's sitting up in his bed, or he's just plain disappeared to whatever hiding place he has now. I don't understand him anymore Hermione," Ron said, half defensively. Harry was instantly and painfully reminded of the time last year that Ron refused to even speak to him.  
Hermione sighed and adjusted herself in the chair. Harry jumped quickly, intending to hide and anticipating that she was getting up. She stayed put however, and Harry eased himself back into his standing position.  
"Ron, I - - -," Hermione began to say, but Ron, apparently caught in a rush of emotion, barged onwards.  
"We go out of our way to try and talk to him. We do everything we can to help him and make him feel comfortable. I know that he's "The-Boy- Who-Lived", and that the things people do and the way people treat him makes him uncomfortable. But does he ever consider how others feel? I mean, here we are, missing supper, waiting for him to turn up because we're concerned." Ron's voice was slowly rising with each sentence.  
Harry felt anger rising within him; anger he knew that he should not feel; anger that he knew would evaporate if he just had a long talk with Ron, but Harry wanted to see just how much Ron wanted to say. So he clenched his fists and continued to stand silently. Hermione tried to say something, but was quickly overrun by Ron once again.  
"Friendship runs both ways, Hermione. It's got to work from BOTH ENDS. The three of us have been friends as long as we've known each other. That's four and a half years now. We've had our ups and downs. But if you ask me, this is the worst down we've had yet. Harry's gotten so distant; we can't even figure out what's wrong! I say that if he wants us to be his friend, he should try communicating with US for a change! We've certainly opened the lines in our direction!"  
"Ron would you please calm down!" Hermione nearly shouted.  
She started to say something else, but Harry was no longer listening. Seething with rage, he stalked away to the dormitories, without a care to as whether Ron and Hermione saw or heard him.  
Once he was back to the solitude of his own bed, he pulled the bed curtains tightly closed. He needed to relax. Reaching within his robes, Harry withdrew his wand.  
"Lumos," he whispered, and the tip of his wand shone with gentle light. Reaching under his bed, his hand found what it was searching for. Carefully, he withdrew the photo album that Hagrid had given him after his first year at Hogwarts, which contained pictures of his mother and father. Harry smiled at the pictures of his parents waving. But as he flipped through the rest of the pages, he came across the many pictures of him and Ron and Hermione, and his smile faded.  
When he had reached the last page, a picture that Colin Creevey had taken of the three of them and Hagrid only a few months ago, Harry gently closed the book. Extinguishing his wand, Harry cried for the second time that day. 


End file.
